


To Pierce the Veil

by Dellessa



Category: Vegas Golden Knights RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Elves, F/M, Gen, Sidhe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 14:38:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12773157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa
Summary: It was easier in Pittsburgh. Easier to nip away on off and head up to the forest. Easier to blend. It was easier still in Canada, near enough to the hill that his clan had claimed when they had crossed the great ocean during the great migration.





	To Pierce the Veil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cloudtrader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudtrader/gifts).



It was easier in Pittsburgh. Easier to nip away on off and head up to the forest. Easier to blend. It was easier still in Canada, near enough to the hill that his clan had claimed when they had crossed the great ocean during the great migration. 

_“It’s going to be okay,”_ Vero claimed. _“You will adapt. You will always adapt.”_ He can’t really argue with that. He is not Sid. He didn’t grow up with the rigidity of the seelie court. He always thought it must be hard being tugged in so many directions. Flowers family had little expectations of him, aside from his own happiness. 

_“Eventually,”_ he settled on, finding the words hard to find. The new team is a hodge-podge. It was something else to get used to. Most teams lended themselves to a certain homogeneousness. The Penguins were always heavy on sidhe and fair folk, magic users; the Rangers were mostly vampires, and the Panthers were not cats, but rather a pack of werewolves. The rest of the teams were not so different, and Flower did not think there was a single team that was completely human. Not anymore. 

It wasn’t a secret, but it also was not something that one discussed. Not all humans had taken the revelation that there were Others among them very well. There was still prejudice in some parts of the States, and less so in Canada, but it did happen. It was not all roses, certainly. 

_“No, not eventually. You will get there.”_ She pressed her lips to his cheek. 

As much as he loved her, he did not think she could understand. She was not his kind, after all. As much as she did her best to understand she could not. She was human, and there was just so much she could understand. She did not feel the same kind of homesickness that he felt. She missed Pittsburgh, but not in the physical way that it made Marc-Andre sick. Physically and mentally. He tried his best to hide it and to put up a cheerful facade. 

It mostly worked, and then they were winning, and that really did make it better for a time. 

_“There are no trees here. Not like at home.”_ He would stand on the balcony of the condo the were renting, and look out at the seemingly endless desert. _“No hill, and no hame, and it just hurts.”_ The landscape was dotted with bright lights in the distance, that flickered like fireworks, and beyond that it seem the sky stretched to eternity. It was too much. 

_“I know,”_ she said. _“You should take a nap. Rest.”_

 _“I’m not tired,”_ he said, and hated the plaintive tone in his voice.

_/ _X_ \\_

Then the concussion happened, and all the joy is wrung out of him for a time.

_/ _X_ \\_

Things had become weird after that. Malcolm’s injury, and then Dansk. It went from weird to ridiculous, to unbelievable by the time they had a nineteen year old in the crease.

 _“We’re curse,”_ Flower pronounced after that mess of a game, and Vero just didn’t get it from the words that left her mouth next. 

_“It is a bit of bad luck,”_ Vero reasoned. _“It’s going to be fine.”_

Marc-Andre was not so sure. _“No, it’s not. I think Pick cursed us. I think. I’m not even sure that he had mean to, and yet there it is.”_ The curse was a palatable thing once he knew what he was looking for. _“And then Ship only enforced it.”_ He couldn't help but wince at that. 

_“Marc---”_

_“I’m going to the arena tonight. There is something I need to do.”_ Something that needed to be done a long time. Their godling would have protected them from this, but no one had even bothered to summon them. Foley did not put a lot of stock in that sort of thing, and it was costing them. Marc-Andre knew first hand what kind of power the little gods could wield. He had felt the cool wind that swept through the Penguins arena more times than he could count, had been present when Sidney had summoned the god for the first time, he had been on the cup with their cup win, and felt the exultation. _“Don’t worry, it will be fine. Promise.”_

Maybe it would, too. No one had expected the little gods, and America was full of thousands. They gathered in sports arenas, soaking up the adulation of the crowds, and gathering up their closest acolytes (the players themselves). They were a hodge-podge, Some gods from people's long gone, others travelers from the old world that followed their people here. It had still been a surprise when the first had made themselves known. The first were special. They had not had to be enticed to show their faces. 

Vero didn’t look entirely convinced. A frown creased her face. _“Marc...”_

“Promise,” he said again, and was heading out the door before she could construct an argument. He didn’t give her a chance to persuade him otherwise.

_/ _X_ \\_

The arena was dark when Marc-Andre arrived, but it was not empty. Some of the veterans are there in the locker room. “What are you even doing here?”

“I had a feeling,” Neal said with a shrug. “So I called some of the guys.” 

A feeling. Flower could not quite find it in himself to be surprised. Neal was a wily old thing, and one of the only kitsunes in the league. “I just thought, maybe we should do the summoning. If we are waiting on Foley it’s never going to happen.” 

Neal humed and elbowed Engelland who was still sitting on the bench. “You’re not wrong,” Engelland said. “He doesn’t put any stock in that sort of thing, but we know better.” 

Sbisa frowned. “The longer we wait the curse is only going to get stronger. Those us us that can feel it---” He shrugged and grimaced. “It’s not keeping us from winning now---” 

“But that can change at any time,” Neal finished. “Let’s fucking do this thing.” 

They walked out on the ice in their street clothes. Flower fished the pocket knife from his pocket, and cut into his hand before passing it on to Neal. With four of them drawing the runes it want faster than he had predicted, and when they came together in the middle (the lines complete) the lines began to glow as the blood soaked into the ice, and disappeared. 

Flower held his breath as the wind began to howl inside the arena, cold and sharp, and smelling of winter snow. He shivered in his clothes, and his breath caught in his chest, and came out in puff of frosted air. The arena felt like it was full of static, as if a storm was approaching with the promise of lightening and thunder. 

**_I am here,_** a voice boomed in his mind. 

It had never been like that in Pittsburgh.


End file.
